Distance
by SongSwifteye
Summary: High school is ending, and the boys are headed off to school. Some are staying close, others going far away...but how far is too far, and who might be left behind? TezuFuji, some Golden Pair.
1. Prologue

Hello, all.

It's been some time since I've had anything to post here. Sorry about that. College life - it's crazy, yes? Well, I've been working on this one for quite some time. It's complete, so no one has to worry about my beginning to post it and never finishing. I will, however, be posting it in pieces - partly to increase the number of potential readers, and partly because I'm a cruel, cruel person.

Well, not much else to say. It's Tezu/Fuji (my favorite!), and the characters are several years older. I tried to stay in character, but allowed myself a little leeway in imagining the ways that their characters would mature as they moved out of middle school and into highschool and college. There's Golden Pair fluff in here too, just FYI.

Hopefully you enjoy it. Any comments, questions, criticisms (constructive is best, please), typo-notifications, etc. are always welcome! I thrive on reviews, and more reviews usually means faster chapter postings!

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Prologue:

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Any ambition that Fuji Syuusuke had was a closely guarded secret

Any ambition that Fuji Syuusuke had was a closely guarded secret. He played tennis, but he wasn't like his teammates - he won, but he had no dreams of being the best. He loved playing with his camera, but no one ever heard him talk about pursuing photography. He always received perfect scores in all his classes, but never seemed to focus on a single subject. He had flown through the entire mathematics program (he and Tezuka met in the library at least once a week to go through math homework together – their friends were sure that it was just an effort to spend some time together, since neither of them needed the help), tried almost every science class for at least one term, and, through the course of his schooling, triumphed in every history, literature and language course he took (by his last year of high school, he could fluently speak both French and English, and read a higher than average amount of Greek and Latin). He could play almost any instrument placed in front of him, and even though his friends had never heard him, his sister claimed that his voice was angelic (Fuji, whenever he heard her, would let his smile widen and make a quip about certainly sounding like something dead. It was his favorite line - it had almost made Tezuka choke on his sushi).

By the time he was in his third and final year of high school, what the local tensai would do after graduation was as much of a question as what Inui Sadaharu used to turn his concoctions such abnormal colors. Interrogating his closest friends was no help. Eiji and Taka could only shrug. Fuji's brother and sister claimed not to know, and Tezuka, if he knew anything, refused to say. No one thought of simply asking Fuji himself.

* * *

The thump of the landing gears on the tarmac roused Tezuka Kunimitsu from a rather fitful sleep. He never slept well on crowded airplanes, and he had been flying all night. Tiny streaks of daybreak were just beginning to color the midnight blue of the horizon as he left the airport. He was glad to be home. He found his father sitting in the car and reading the morning paper. He felt a little guilty as he watched his father stifle a yawn. He had told his parents that he could easily take the train and they didn't have to pick him up; he didn't have much luggage. But they had insisted. His mother had smiled in her quiet way and gently teased that he'd be so tired, he'd fall asleep and miss his station stop. Considering how tired he was now, she'd probably been right.

"How was your trip?" his father asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"Very interesting," Tezuka replied. "Certainly different than anything I've seen here."

He had been surprised to receive a letter from a university in Switzerland, of all places. They had been very impressed by reports from his school and the clinic in Germany and were interested in recruiting him. He had an extremely impressive reputation as both an athlete and a student, well-rounded and dedicated. They had offered him an excellent scholarship, but even so, he was reticent. He had been planning on attending college in Japan, but they were persistent. They asked that he come and visit the school to look at the facilities and meet the trainers before making a decision. They were sure he would be impressed. Much to his surprise, he was.

His flight had arrived late in the evening, and when he declined an offer for dinner, one of the students had shown him to his room. He rose early the next morning, slipping into training clothes and catching up the pass he'd been given ("Just in case you didn't want to skip your training," his guide had said, handing him the pass and pointing out the athletic complex. "It's open twenty-four hours. Any equipment you need can be rented at the desk, unless you'd rather bring your own. Outdoor tennis courts are behind the dormitories, but we have indoor facilities too. It's rather cold in the mornings") before heading out. After running and warm-ups, he came face to face with an older man who, seeing his racket, immediately challenged him to a set. They played a slow game, Tezuka reticent to win too easily. However, they sped up as the games moved on, and he realized that the other man was holding back as well, watching him. He was reminded of Inui, measuring his opponent, except whenever he increased the tempo, the older man was right there with him. Curious, he placed a perfect zero-shiki drop shot, gaining a leading game, 4-3. Laughing, the older man held up a hand.

"I think that's enough for now. It was your left shoulder that was damaged, correct? It has healed well."

Tezuka found himself unsurprised.

"You must be the trainer that I was supposed to meet, correct?"

The man smiled, holding out his hand.

"Hans Whilden," he said. "And you must be Kunimitsu Tezuka."

Tezuka shook his hand and bowed respectfully, earning a laugh from Mr. Whilden and a sigh from the females in the small crowd of spectators they had inadvertently gathered.

Mr. Whilden was, apparently, the coach of the university tennis team, as well as being one of the trainers. He also didn't go by "Mr." Whilden.

"You're a doctor?" Tezuka asked, noticing the M.D. next to his name in front of his office.

Dr. Whilden smiled and pulled out a file folder, handing it to Tezuka. It held pictures and medical information about a younger Hans Whilden, records of serious tennis injuries, including an overstrained shoulder.

"That never did heal entirely. Ruined my chances of becoming a professional player. I'd seen that happen too many times. I could've stopped with the basic trainer's certification, but I figured the only way I could help was to learn as much as I could about it."

They spent much of the next two days together, Dr. Whilden introducing him to his team and even accompanying him around to meet different professors.

The entire school was impressive, far surpassing his expectations. He told his father as much as they drove home from the airport.

"I'm glad you liked the school, Kunimitsu."

Tezuka was too. They'd all worked hard to pay for his flight. It would've been disappointing if he hadn't liked the school.

"If you really like the university, you'll have to add it to the list of schools you're considering."

He paused.

"Your mother will be excited. She'd have an excuse to go to Europe if you started going to school there."

They shared identical smiles. Ever since Tezuka had come home with stories of Germany after his stay there in his third year at Seigaku, his mother had been entranced. She loved European languages and cultures, and Tezuka had several packages tucked into his luggage, tiny treasures snagged in street stalls, haggled and bartered for the way he had learned during his rehab in Germany. His mother was, in general, a steady, practical person, but she could never entirely overcome her love of beautiful things. She was, as far as knick-knacks and decorations went, what westerners called a "pack-rat." One of the prints he had found, a sprig of local flowers in muted greens and purples, brushed in oils on a porcelain tile, had cost more than he had wanted to spend, but it was perfect, and he knew that the look in his mother's eyes would more than make up for it.

"I'm fairly sure," his father continued, "That she'll be awake with breakfast for us."

Tezuka nodded solemnly, trying to hide his fatigue, when his stomach let out a loud, undignified growl. His own voice joined his father's low chuckle as the first rays of the morning sun breached the horizon.

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Well, that's it for the intro. Hope you liked it. Thanks for reading, and again, comments are always welcome!

-Song


	2. Chapter 1

Here's the first chapter of _Distance_. I'm sorry about the sad name…I'm sure that it's been used before, but I don't really have time to waste thinking up something clever right now, and it is perfectly adequate, if a bit clichéd.

Thanks to all of you who reviewed. I always try to reply to my reviewers posthaste, so you can generally expect feedback for your feedback. : ) Still, if you didn't use a "signed" review and you want feedback, be sure to slip some way of contacting you into your review – an LJ account or an email or something. I can only reply to reviewers who have FFN accounts.

Again, thanks for the lovely reviews. Without further adieu, on with the story!

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Chapter 1

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"Kunimitsu?"

Tezuka looked up from his book.

"Come in."

His mother's smile greeted him as she silently stepped into his room.

"A friend is here to see you, Kunimitsu."

Tezuka was surprised. He hadn't been expecting anyone.

"It's Syuusuke-kun."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. What could Fuji want?

* * *

Somehow, he wasn't too surprised to find himself facing his friend across a tennis court less than an hour later. Their match in their last year of junior high had brought Fuji into his element. He still showed sadistic glee in toying with his opponents, especially hotheads who took one look and underestimated him. Whenever that happened, the people who knew him always stepped back and watched. He always had so much fun, and it was really amazing – if a trifle painful – to watch. Kikumaru swore that he'd even seen Tezuka smiling as Fuji beat another mouthy upstart into the ground. He certainly wasn't smiling now though. Playing Fuji required all of his concentration. They were fairly evenly matched, and knew each others' playing styles almost as well as their own. They both enjoyed trying new moves and techniques to throw the other off, but the advantage never lasted long. It was this intimate knowledge of each other that let Tezuka know that something was off. He was doing better than when they had first started their game, but Fuji wasn't playing right today.

He lanced the ball right between Fuji's legs. Game and set, Tezuka, seven games to five. He lowered his racket and moved to the bench. Sitting for a moment, he decided to ask.

"I take it that helped?" he asked, hearing Fuji coming up behind him.

Fuji smiled ruefully at Tezuka's back. Nothing got past his closest friend. As their last year of high school waned, Fuji found himself facing a wall of question marks. When the uncertainty overwhelmed him, just seeing his friend's face steadied him. He remembered his personal revelation back in their second year of junior high, the feeling that he could climb to any height, so long as he was with Tezuka.

"Fuji?"

Blue eyes met hazel, and Fuji's face wrinkled into a grin.

"Aah. Yes, it helped. Arigatou, buchou."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow at that. The seniors had all retired after nationals, and he'd officially passed his title down to Momoshiro.

Fuji shrugged, looking guileless.

"Old habits die hard. Gomen, Tezuka."

Tezuka wasn't fooled and Fuji gave up.

"Saa, Tezuka, I'm starving. You won so it's your treat. What do you feel like?"

It was one of Fuji's favorite traditions. He wasn't' sure when it had started, but at some point their weekly match had extended to include their own little wager, the winner buying dinner for the loser. For at least two years, unless they had other plans with family, or friends, or teammates, or there was too much studying to do, they had played a game each Sunday afternoon, although their games had ebbed as their last year ended, and all their time was taken up with applications and entrance exams.

Tezuka's lips curved upward in the hint of a smile. He had missed their games, missed the feeling of playing with every ounce of his skill and still not having a guaranteed victory, missed the thrill and the challenge, and the way Fuji's eyes would flash at him across the net, and later glint with laughter at him across the dinner table.

Feeling gracious, Tezuka told Fuji to choose. Smiling, Fuji spun his racket. He pointed in the direction the handle had landed.

"Let's see if there's anything that way."

Fuji always liked to try somewhere new. He had come up with all sorts of odd ways to choose a restaurant over the years. Tezuka usually chose restaurants that they both knew and liked (although a few times, when the games had been particularly harrowing, he had chosen the little restaurant just down the street from the courts, the one where you could get the spiciest food in the whole Kantou district. It always made Fuji's smile wider, even though he shot him questioning looks between the smiles, knowing that Tezuka didn't really like spicy food), and so between the two of them, they always had a nice blend of old favorites and new surprises.

They found a tiny ramen stand several blocks down. Carrying their bowls, they moved further down the street to a tiny "park" (really just a group of benches and tables in the shadow of a few trees) to eat. Fuji's smile widened as he took his first bite. Another success.

"It's good, ne, Tezuka?"

Tezuka nodded, the slurp of his stubborn noodles a rather humorous contrast to the serious look on his face.

The best part of the afternoon, Fuji knew, was always after they had gotten started on their dinner. Once they had both replenished a little energy from their exhausting match and come down from the peak of their adrenaline rush, Tezuka was usually more than willing to relax, catching up on how things had been going in both their lives. It had been a while since he and Fuji had had a chance to talk. With a little coaxing, Fuji got him talking about his trip. Fuji's smile was warm as Tezuka described the school and the facilities, telling him of tall snow-covered mountains and dark pine trees, and about the trainer he'd spoken with. Someone who didn't know Tezuka might have thought that he was unimpressed, but Fuji had worked hard to learn how to see the truth behind that serious face. The bright light in Tezuka's eyes was more than obvious.

"You really like it there," he said, making Tezuka stop and meet his eyes. One corner of the taller boy's mouth curved slightly and his eyes glowed as he nodded.

"It's hard not to. You'd like it too, Fuji. It's beautiful. The pictures don't do it justice."

Fuji's eyes had opened wide for a fraction of an instant before his smile came back into place.

"Ahn? I wonder then, if my camera would do any better?"

Tezuka looked at him thoughtfully. He had seen many of Fuji's photographs over the years.

"It might. You have an uncanny ability to capture things as they really are, Fuji."

Fuji's smile turned brilliant, and he thanked Tezuka sincerely. A compliment from Tezuka Kunimitsu was a rare gift indeed, made all the more precious by its scarcity.

They walked slowly back to the street courts, lights beginning to glow as the sun faded. At the corner where their paths would split, Tezuka stopped Fuji.

"Have you chosen a school yet, Fuji?" he asked. "I know you've been getting offers from several universities."

Fuji just smiled at him.

"Iie, I'm still thinking. It can be hard to choose, ne, Tezuka?"

Turning, he waved as he walked away.

"Saa, it's getting late. Ja ne, Tezuka!"

More than a little surprised, Tezuka watched as Fuji walked away. That was odd. Fuji never left first. He must have forgotten something he had to do.

* * *

Fuji Yuuta heard the door shut with a gentle click. Turning away from his work at the kitchen table he called out, "Aniki? Is that you?"

Syuusuke gave him a gentle smile, coming around the corner.

"Yumiko-nee-san and kaa-san went out. Did you have dinner? We ate already," Yuuta said, "But there are left-over's in the fridge."

"Thanks, Yuuta," Fuji smiled, "But I grabbed a bite with Tezuka after our match."

Yuuta raised an eyebrow and asked, "Who paid?"

Fuji chuckled.

"Tezuka. Seven to five."

That made Yuuta look up.

"Seven-five? Aniki, you haven't lost before your eighth game since Jr. High. What's up?"

Only someone who knew Fuji as well as his brother – or Tezuka – would have seen the mask come up.

"Nothing's 'up', Yuuta-kun, I just must've had an off day."

Yuuta winced a little at the honorific, but continued anyway.

"Then why did you bother to play at all if you weren't going to be serious? Tezuka's not one of the small-fry you can toy with."

Fuji's mask flickered out, and his eyes flashed until he saw the look on his brother's face. Yuuta was baiting him.

Yuuta let out the breath he'd been holding as his brother's laughter cut through the tension. He winced though when Fuji moved behind his chair and ruffled his short hair. Draping his arms around his little brother's shoulders, he rested his chin on his head.

"What happens when I get too old to catch your expressions and can't tell when you're being kind and when you're turning into Mizuki?"

Deciding to momentarily ignore the slur on his manager, Yuuta shrugged, knowing that Syuusuke could feel it if not see it.

"I'll probably be horribly maimed. But until then…"

Fuji's chuckles vibrated against the top of his head.

"Don't worry about me, Yuuta. I was just having a bad day. This whole graduation thing has me a bit rattled, if you must know. Of course, no one else can know that. It'd ruin my entire unflappable reputation. I would not be happy, otouto mine."

Yuuta moved to shake his brother off.

"Yeah, right, aniki, who would I tell? I don't even talk to those weird Seigaku kids you hang out with."

Fuji chuckled at him again, dropping a kiss on top of spiky hair and earning an annoyed, "A-Ni-Ki!" as he turned and moved down the hall.

Shutting the door to his room, Fuji turned and flopped on his bed, letting his breath out with a whoosh. He smiled a bit, looking up at his colorful ceiling. That was from his "creative period." It had taken surprisingly little convincing to get his parents to let him do whatever he wanted to his room. Wanting to keep his walls blank for his other artwork, Fuji decided that he would turn Michelangelo and paint the ceiling. The whole thing was a bright, deep blue, like the sky on a summer afternoon, with bright splotches of color sprinkling it like bits of shattered rainbow. It looked as though an entire classroom full of elementary students had been given paints and free reign. The thought made Fuji grin. There had been paint and little or no supervision, but only one elementary school kid. His walls were covered by his work, photos of friends and family along with some of his more professional photographs and a few pieces of art that he had either created or collected over the years. His shelves were lined with books, knick-knacks and cacti…and speaking of, it was about time for them to be watered again. Grabbing the watering can he kept next to the window, he walked across the hall to fill it in the bathroom sink.

His cacti didn't need water very often, but he made sure to visit with each of them every day. Everyone knew plants grew better when you talked to them. Besides, Kiku-chan had been looking a little down in the dumps.

Fuji made a point of naming his plants. The day he'd gotten the cactus, with its tiny red-orange blossoms and cheery little spikes, Eiji had come home with him. When Fuji had mused aloud about what he should name it, he had bounced and said, "Nya, Fujiko, just think of who it reminds you of!"

Looking at the bouncing redhead, Fuji laughed and said, "It reminds me of you."

Stopping, Eiji grimaced.

"A plant named Eiji? That's weird, Fujiko."

Chuckling at the memory, Fuji started the rounds, making sure the little orange blossomed cactus came last, so he could give it a little extra time and attention.

"I don't know why I'm so nervous," he told them. "Really, I could get into any school I want. But," his voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't want to be alone."

He looked over to the pictures on the wall. One of his favorites, a photo from his third year at Seigaku, caught his eye. That had been a fun morning. Oishi had dragged them out at ye-gods in the morning, so they could work their legs off climbing a mountain just to watch the sunrise. Several of them had been reluctant, but it had ended up being great fun. Fuji had snapped photos of everyone, as well as a group photo which he was particularly fond of. They had all been so happy, so confident that they could do anything, that their captain could lead them anywhere…Until the following afternoon, when Tezuka had announced that he was leaving to have his shoulder treated in Germany. Tezuka left them. It wasn't for very long, and they even got to go to Germany and visit him, but for Fuji…

Fuji shuddered. It had been a terrible time for him. He hadn't realized exactly how much time he spent with Tezuka until then. He'd suddenly found himself at loose ends, still seething at Atobe, even though he knew that it had been Tezuka's decision to keep playing in spite of the consequences.

He'd been so furious with Atobe afterward. How dare he injure their captain at such a critical time? How dare he injure his closest friend? What right did he have to hurt Tezuka? He'd been furious with Tezuka, too. It was one match! It wasn't worth sacrificing himself. He could've ruined all of his chances at going pro after high school.

Fuji sighed. Shaking the last few droplets of water over Kiku-chan, he got to his feet to put away the watering can. He was amazed that three years later, one incident from Jr. High would still haunt him. He'd been so worried for Tezuka, worried that the injury to his shoulder was too great, that the treatment wouldn't be enough to make him a "perfect Tezuka," that he would have to give up his dreams of playing professionally. He would have been crushed, and Fuji didn't think he could handle watching his friend in that kind of pain. He could still remember the intense elation he felt when he'd looked up and met those familiar hazel eyes outside the courts at Junior Senbatsu. He'd realized something a little unsettling that day. While tennis might have been Tezuka's "raison d'être," Tezuka was his. Fuji had pushed this revelation to the back of his mind and rushed to greet his buchou along with the rest of the team. Like all revelations, though, it never disappeared, but merely became a constant at the back of his mind. And now, with graduation looming closer, and the memory of the light in Tezuka's eyes when he talked about his trip to Switzerland, that unassuming constant came to the forefront of Fuji's mind, adding a vague sense of panic to his growing unrest.

Flopping back on his bed, Fuji picked up his growing pile of acceptance letters and scholarship offers. College wasn't two months at a rehab center. If Tezuka chose that school, he'd be gone for years. Switzerland was on the other side of the world. Would he be able to handle the separation?

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Well, again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All comments and criticisms are more than welcome, and "typo-sightings" are greatly appreciated. I don't use a beta, so I have to depend on my readers to let me know if I've missed anything! Drop me a line, I love to hear from readers!

-Song


	3. Chapter 2

Once again, hello everyone!

Not much to say with this one. This is the section that stalled me the longest. I got to Oishi swinging Eiji around happily and suddenly hit a block. This fic then found itself shelved for the greater part of a year before I finally figured out the direction I wanted to go. Alas for my gobbledygook writing style, which isn't a style at all, but really a collection of tattered pieces of paper upon which dwell each and every literary nugget that ever crossed my mind. This isn't even the oldest of my PoT w.i.p.'s, honestly. Still, at least I got this one done, right?

So much for "not much to say." Forgive my rambling. Oh, and I realized that I was missing a disclaimer – I'll put one here, and hopefully find a minute to edit the earlier chapters – or maybe I'll make that an excuse to pull it back to the first page after I've completed it (evil, I know. I hate it when authors do that, but since it'll be complete, it's really not such a bad thing…If I do, I promise to note that it's only an edit, okay?).

Thanks to all my reviewers, and to everyone else helping to rack up the "hits" counter on my stories. It's awesome to know so many people are reading!

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Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated with The Prince of Tennis or any of the characters therein. The plot, the little (fictional) college town in Switzerland, and Dr. Hans Whilden, however, were born and bred in my imagination, so please don't take them without permission.

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Chapter 2

* * *

"Tadaima."

"Kunimitsu, is that you?"

Tezuka's mother appeared from the kitchen.

"Did the results come out?"

Tezuka nodded.

"Did you score well?"

"Yes."

Honestly, even Tezuka was surprised at how well he'd done. With scores like his, he could get into any school he wished. He still wasn't sure where he wanted to go, however. He'd never been so indecisive before, but he felt that he was being pulled in several directions at once. He had been planning on school in Japan, away from home, but nearby in case something happened. Now though, the university in Switzerland was pulling at him. It was really a great school, and they were giving him an incredible full-ride scholarship to play tennis for them (with the requirement that he maintain a strong grade-point-average; that requirement was one of his favorite parts of the deal – it let him know that this was a demanding school, rather than one who bent the rules to get the best athletes). He'd discovered something on his visit though. He'd always considered himself a bit of a loner, a leader who worked well with a team but didn't need close personal relationships. However, when he was in Switzerland, his thoughts were constantly turning back to his friends and teammates. The sushi he tried at an eastern restaurant in town wasn't nearly as good as Kawamura's, the gymnastics setup at the school would've sent Kikumaru into ecstatic cartwheels, and the nutritional "juice and smoothie bars" made him pray that they would never be seen by Inui for fear of city-wide contamination. And more than anyone else, he found himself thinking of Fuji. He would have had a field day with his camera, surrounded as the town was by majestic, snow covered mountains. He would've loved the people, too. No matter where he looked, he saw something that made him think of Fuji.

He'd meant it when he said Fuji would like the university. He'd taken an afternoon or two to wander through the town, admiring the unique mixture of older architecture, quaint county-looking homes, and modern business buildings. Wandering the shadow-dappled sidewalks alone, he had almost been able to see his friend's smile, was almost able to hear his delighted exclamations, calls of, "One moment, Tezuka, onegai!" as he focused his camera on his newest inspiration. In his bedroom, now, he laid back on his bed, closing his eyes and reliving his memories of the quaint mountain town surrounding the university, letting himself remember the paths his feet had followed. It was no good. Even in his memories, he couldn't remember what had really happened, what his own reactions were. Instead, he had impressions of Fuji's reactions, what he would have said, what he would have done. He was a tangible presence in his memories of the trip. Moments later, he opened his eyes, expression tightening. When had his friendship with Fuji become so important? When did he start inserting his friend next to himself in memories of everything he did? He didn't know how he had missed it. He'd been friends with Fuji since they'd met in their first year of junior high at Seigaku, had gotten used to his unassuming presence in the 2nd and 3rd years, and truly begun to enjoy the companionship in senior high – but he hadn't realized, until now, how much he'd come to depend on his friend's silent support, constant and undemanding. He had an odd urge to see Fuji suddenly, to see if acknowledging the other boy's importance would effect their interaction. Would things be any different now?

Tezuka's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Surprised, and half hoping that his thoughts had conjured Fuji himself, he moved to answer the door. Oishi Shuichirou stood on his doorstep, his smile warm and his racket over one shoulder. Tezuka greeted him, glancing around for his friend's bouncing red-headed shadow, Kikumaru Eiji. Oishi caught the glances and laughed.

"No, Tezuka, Eiji's not with me. He dragged Fuji out for ice-cream when he got his exam scores. Of course," he grumbled lightly, "He could've told me how he did before running away like that."

Tezuka blinked at that, before he remembered that Fuji had been working with Eiji to get ready for exams. The little acrobat hadn't wanted to distract his doubles partner from his own studying, but instead latched onto Fuji, saying "Nya, Fujiko's the tensai. He doesn't need to study anyway, so he can help me instead!"

Oishi had seemed a bit saddened, so Fuji had approached him afterward, letting him know that Eiji was trying to help them both out, knowing that Oishi studied best on his own, while Fuji himself learned better when he was teaching someone else. That, combined with Eiji's enthusiastic hugs, was enough to sooth any of Oishi's concerns.

It made sense for Eiji to be celebrating with his tutor. Besides, apart from each other, Eiji and Oishi were Fuji and Tezuka's closest friends. Bringing Oishi into the house, he left him with his mother, who had come out to greet him, excusing himself to grab his racket and tennis clothes.

* * *

Eiji bounced along next to Fuji, happily licking his ice-cream cone. His eyes glinted brilliant blue in the sunlight, and the smile on his face told the world that he was having a great day. Fuji walked next to him, enjoying his friend's happiness. Eiji had worked exceptionally hard for his marks, and it had paid off. His scores were high enough that he could go to university with Oishi, the only thing he had really wanted to make sure of. Oishi didn't know yet though. He wanted to surprise him, and make him wait a while. He'd been so afraid that they'd be separated when they went off to university. Fuji smiled as his friend made a happy leap, managing not to drop his ice-cream as he began chattering about the kind of apartment that he and Oishi were going to look for. Fuji, listening with a half-smile, was distracted by the familiar _thwack_ of a tennis racket. Eiji must've heard it too, because he perked up, turning Fuji in the direction of the tennis courts.

"Nya, Fuji, let's see who's playing!"

Fuji laughed as his excited friend tugged on his arm. It was, unfortunately, the one holding his ice-cream cone, and he was almost startled when his ice-cream moved away, just as he was reaching for a bite. Eiji chuckled at his friend, still pulling him along to the tennis courts, although he knew exactly who they would find. Oishi had told him that he'd been going to try and play a set with Tezuka that afternoon, and these were his favorite courts. He wasn't surprised at all to come out of the trees and see the familiar forms of Seigaku's previous buchou and fuku-buchou. He turned to look at Fuji, and grinned at the look on his friend's face.

Fuji Syuusuke knew that even if he lived to be a hundred, he would see very few things more magnificent than Tezuka Kunimitsu on the tennis court. He epitomized power, composure and control, every move deliberate, every shot perfectly timed and executed. His sharp eyes followed Tezuka's every move until finally, as he was beginning to ready his serve, Tezuka looked up, and their eyes met. Oishi couldn't help but smile briefly, his look turning serious as Tezuka began to push him even harder.

'_I was wondering when he'd notice them...or rather, __him_.'

Eiji started cheering for Oishi.

"Nya, Fujiko, which one are you rooting for?"

Fuji smiled.

"I think Oishi has all the fans he needs, Eiji."

"Yosh! So I'll cheer for Oishi, and you cheer for Tezuka-buchou, ne?"

Eiji turned back to the game, his grin widening when he heard Fuji's whispered reply.

"Always."

* * *

He'd felt someone's gaze pulling at him, and paused before his serve to look up. His eyes caught Fuji's and held, barely registering the red-head bouncing next to him as he faltered, gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he snapped the ball up, sending a vicious serve across the net. Tezuka took a love game, despite the fact that Oishi fought back fiercely. As the last shot flew past Oishi's racket, he took a step back, breathing deeply.

That was a new experience. While he always wanted to play his best, he'd never wanted to play…impressively before. And Oishi, oddly enough, looked unusually happy about it, because there was a glint in his friend's green eyes that made Tezuka feel that even though he'd won the set, Oishi had won something even bigger.

"Great game, Tezuka," he grinned, coming to the net to shake his friend's hand. "You usually hold back a bit more. If I didn't know any better," he teased, shooting a glance at the sidelines, "I would think you were trying to impress someone."

His eyes and his grin widened when, rather than giving a brief reprimand about always playing one's best, Tezuka looked away momentarily, almost embarrassed.

"Oishi!"

Oishi turned just in time to catch Eiji's headlong tumble into his arms. They laughed together.

"Nya, Oishi, sugoi!" Eiji exclaimed. "That was so cool! You and Tezuka-buchou play so well! It was exciting, ne, Fujiko?"

"Hai."

Tezuka turned to the soft voice at his side. Fuji's smile greeted him.

"Good game, Tezuka. Even better than the last one we played, I think. You seemed particularly inspired."

Tezuka merely nodded his thanks, eyes not leaving Fuji's face. They were both brought back around by the sound of a happy whoop.

"Yosh, Eiji! I knew you would score well!"

Oishi, usually fairly undemonstrative, had caught his partner up in a fierce hug and was whirling him around in gleeful circles. Eiji was laughing, his head thrown back as he held on with all his might. Fuji chuckled, and even Tezuka smiled at the two ecstatic young men.

Slowing to a stop, Oishi lowed Eiji's feet back onto the ground. Smiling down at his still-laughing doubles partner, he asked, "Does this mean we're getting that apartment we wanted?"

Watching as Eiji nodded, Oishi caught the redhead's chin in one hand and gently pressed their lips together.

Tezuka, smile fading into shock, watched as two of his friends started kissing. That was unexpected. Still, he wasn't as shocked as he might have been. He'd known that there was something between the two that was more than just friendship. Sliding his gaze to the side, he saw Fuji watching him. He seemed to be waiting for reaction. Tezuka, in a moment of weakness, wondered how Fuji would've reacted if he had tried the same thing. A brief and startling moment of clarity made him realize that if he had learned that Fuji could come with him when he left for school, that they could stay together, he just might have had the same reaction that Oishi did.

Eiji pulled away from Oishi slowly, eyes soft and warm, breathing sighs. He and Oishi turned back to their companions, their faces glowing almost as red as Eiji's hair as they realized that they had forgotten about their audience. Oishi began to sputter an apology, but was stopped by Tezuka, surprisingly.

"You needn't apologize, Oishi. Happy occasions are their own excuses."

He looked down in time to catch sight of shocked blue eyes, glowing in the afternoon sunlight. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, he moved to pack up his tennis things.

"Nya, Tezuka-buchou, you don't have anything planned this afternoon, Oishi said so. Let's all go somewhere and get food. All this celebrating is making me hungry! Besides, you haven't told us about your trip yet!" Eiji's happy smile was even more infectious than usual.

Tezuka glanced at Fuji, trying to gauge his reaction, but all he could see was the normal soft smile.

Oishi grimaced at his enthusiastic partner.

"We'll need to go home first, Eiji. I, for one, would like a shower and clean clothes, and I'm sure that Tezuka does, too. Want to meet back at the park entrance in an hour?"

Tezuka nodded and turned to Fuji.

"My mother was hoping you would stop by, Fuji. She had some questions about one of the cacti that you gave her. If you would like, you could speak with her while I get ready."

Nodding, Fuji waved to Oishi and Eiji and followed Tezuka out of the park.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for reading. Reviews of all kinds (yes, even flames, although I don't enjoy those) are more than welcome!

-Song


	4. Chapter 3 and Epilogue

Final piece!

Last chapter!

The End!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and especially to Speadee, Shinjuku041, and Vierblith, who wrote awesome reviews and made me decide to move the posting date up a day, I am now posting the 4th and final section of my little story, plus, a tiny bonus epilogue (which might actually move this up to a T, but I think it should be safe).

I hope that the characters aren't too sappy here. After Tezuka's little revelation last chapter, I think that the phone conversation could happen - but I'll leave that up to you!

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3

* * *

It was two weeks after their impromptu little get-together that things came to a head. Fuji was home alone, reading through and sorting his acceptance and scholarship letters, when there was a knock at the door. Uncurling from his place on the sofa, he went to open it, only to find Tezuka Kunimitsu standing on the other side.

"Tezuka?" he asked, surprised.

"May I come in?"

Fuji's eyes searched Tezuka's, trying to discern what could be wrong as he stepped backward, allowing his ex-buchou to enter.

"Would you like some tea, Tezuka? Go sit down, and I'll get us each a cup."

Tezuka moved to sit on the sofa as Fuji headed into the kitchen. He returned shortly, a steaming cup in each hand, settling down next to him and handing him the tea. They sat for a moment, fragrant steam caressing their faces as they drank in silence. After a while, Tezuka slowly lowered his cup and looked Fuji in the eyes.

"I received another letter from Switzerland yesterday," he said. Fuji nodded for him to continue.

"They're making an offer that is too hard to refuse."

Fuji stared into his cup.

"When?"

Tezuka frowned.

"Next week. My parents are coming with me to spend some time sight-seeing before tennis practices start in earnest."

Fuji looked up with a smile at that.

"Your mother must be thrilled. She finally gets to go to Europe."

Tezuka had to smile at that, too.

"She is. She started packing even before the final decision had been made. My father had to stop her from packing her toothbrush a week in advance."

Fuji's laughter was like bells, silvery and light, and the idea that he might not get to hear it again shook Tezuka to the core. He turned his eyes downward.

"Tezuka?"

"We're flying out on Monday."

Fuji pasted his smile on and grabbed the cups.

"Well, at least we can have another Sunday game before you leave, ne, Buchou?"

* * *

They hadn't been in Switzerland longer than a week, and Tezuka found his hand twitching toward his cell phone. It helped to have his parents with him, his mother's enthusiasm taking the sting out of his homesickness, but when Sunday rolled around, and nothing he did could recreate that adrenaline rush that came from facing Fuji across the net, when his parents went to dinner in town, he begged off. Going back to his dorm room, he pulled out his phone and punched in the familiar number.

"Moshi moshi."

"Fuji?"

"Tezuka. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. What are you doing?"

"Trying to sleep."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. It wasn't working."

"Why?"

"I don't know. What did you want?"

"Fuji…"

"Yes, Tezuka, we've established that. I know you didn't call me at four in the morning just to chat, so what's wrong?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure this is Tezuka-kun? I've never known him to do anything without a reason."

Tezuka gave the phone in his hand a wry look before he sighed.

"Homesickness, I guess."

"Tezuka, isn't your family there with you still?"

"There's more to home than family."

Through the phone, he could hear Fuji's sharp little gasp of breath, and it gave him courage.

"I miss you."

"You do?"

"Would I have said it otherwise?"

In the darkness of his bedroom, Fuji smiled, one silent tear running down his cheek.

"I miss you too, Tezuka. Not much we can do to change that now though."

He winced at his slip, and Tezuka caught it.

"Was there ever anything we could've done to change it?"

Fuji thought a moment before answering.

"Even back in middle school, we were all so loyal to you. We followed you everywhere, even to Germany. Did you honestly think that that had changed? Why wouldn't I, who followed you from the day we met, follow you in this as well?"

Audible surprise.

"You would have come?"

A whisper.

"I would have come."

Staring up at the darkened ceiling, Tezuka closed his eyes as his shoulders slumped.

"I wish I had asked. I wish you were here."

"So do I. Goodnight, Tezuka."

A click, and the line went dead.

* * *

"Tezuka!"

Turning, Tezuka jogged over to his coach.

"Yes, coach?"

"We've got a late comer to the team. You're the only player that doesn't have a roommate yet, so I'm putting him with you. Try it for a few weeks. If you two can't make a go of it, then I'll move people around. He seemed pretty confident that you two would get along though. He's going through the final details of the registration process today, but I'd like you to make sure he knows where and when to get to practice in the morning, alright?"

With a nod, Tezuka moved toward the locker rooms. Hair still damp from his shower, he made it back to his room, only to find it empty. There were new bags sitting on the bed opposite his, and a slim laptop bag sitting on the desk. What made him catch his breath was the sight of a petite cactus with bright orange blossoms and multitudes of tiny spikes sitting next to a black camera bag on the far corner of the chest of drawers. He was staring at it when the door opened, and a familiar voice chimed.

"I had been a little worried about whether Kiku-chan was up for such a long trip, but he seems to have come out of it just fine, don't you think, Tezuka?"

He found himself frozen in place as the lithe figure approached.

"Tezuka? Aren't you glad to see me?"

It took the wickedly amused gleam in those sharp eyes along with the warmth of a slim hand on his chest to snap Tezuka out of his shock. His arms came up, one hand cupping the sprite's face in front of him. Never one for too many words, he simply pressed their lips together, memorizing the feel of Fuji's slighter form relaxing into his embrace. They pulled apart slowly, Fuji letting his expression turn smug and Tezuka's lips curving slightly in response.

"How?" Tezuka asked, smile turning bemused.

Fuji's smile was entirely too self-satisfied as he leaned back up.

"A tensai never reveals his tricks."

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

"…And then the PR-rep was wondering whether you would be going back to Japan to attend the charity banquet again this year, once you've finished with the Australian tournament, of course."

Tezuka glanced to his left and was met with a shrug.

"My exhibition doesn't start until two weeks after the banquet, and it would be nice to go home."

The excited gleam in his personal photographer's eyes belayed the calm nonchalance of his answer. He nodded at his assistant, who smiled at the two before exiting. Atashi had gotten used to having to fit the photographer's schedule to the tennis player's. It was quite easy to do, actually, since Fuji Syusuke was a name with enough renown that he could practically call up any gallery he wanted to and name his own exhibition dates.

Fuji moved closer as the other man left the room, and Tezuka's arm came around his shoulders.

"I'm glad that we'll be back for that week. Kawamura, Eiji and Oishi have been planning a get together for the regulars – that might just happen to fall right around our Golden Pair's anniversary."

"What day will it be?"

"Right after we fly in," Fuji replied. "We'll have to rush if we want to clean up after we get off the plane."

"Should we let them know that we might be late?"

Fuji's low chuckle, no matter how often he heard it, could always send shivers down his lover's spine.

"I don't see why we should bother. Eiji and Oishi come late to everything anymore. Not that I blame them," he added with a sideways smirk. "If I had my way, we'd be late to everything, too."

Tezuka cocked an eyebrow at the shorter man.

"Then it's a good thing you don't have your way all the time. You'd ruin the public image that you and Atashi-san and the PR-rep have worked so hard to cultivate."

"Hn, if I didn't have my way some of the time, you wouldn't have an image to cultivate. You'd go out, play tennis, and disappear again. You're useless with publicity, Kunimitsu."

"Can't do anything without you right by my side, can I?" the taller man asked softly.

Fuji snorted lightly.

"Of course not. It's why your PR-rep made me your permanent photographer – I'm the only one who can get you to smile on a regular basis."

"Only because you're the only one with the leverage to either bribe or blackmail me into it."

"Hn. Now that you mention it, don't I owe you some bribery? I think I'm behind by a couple of payments…"

"You owe me bribery for the next millennium just for letting you publish those old photos you found from Seigaku. I can't believe you talked me into that."

"Come now, Kunimitsu, it was a good idea. Your popularity rating went through the roof. Now, are we going to talk business, or can we get back to the matter of my…ah-hem…back-payments?"

"Syusuke…"

* * *

Again, thanks to everyone for reading. I hope you liked it.

-Song


End file.
